


Revenge is the Dreadful Food it Feeds On

by CallYourGirlfriend



Series: All The Light We Cannot See [3]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, Stress, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomit, sick tommy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallYourGirlfriend/pseuds/CallYourGirlfriend
Summary: "Stripped down to his undershirt, .22 in one hand and his trench knife in the other, Tommy’s every bit the sergeant major."
Relationships: Arthur Shelby & Tommy Shelby
Series: All The Light We Cannot See [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789294
Kudos: 30





	Revenge is the Dreadful Food it Feeds On

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the series "All The Light We Cannot See," which uses canon to imagine what happens before, sometime in the middle or just after an episode leaves off. It's the light we do not see. It is also purposefully concise; written to fit exactly one Google Doc page.

**_Coda --4x06 "The Company"_ **

Arthur’s woken from a restless sleep by the sounds of someone sicking up in the toilet. He blinks, confused. His throat hurts. Worse than it did in France sucking down mustard gas by the lungful. His fingers throb too, like he tried to take someone’s eyes but his blade-hand slipped.

That’s when he remembers: Vendetta, John’s dead, boxing match, fucking Italians everywhere. 

He’s in his bed, alone. But there’s a shotgun by the door next to a blue bottle of snow and a glass with a finger of whiskey in it. Even if Arthur hadn’t fought with Tommy in the trenches, he’d recognize an old soldier settling in for a long patrol. Arthur figures it’s his brother in the lav.

Sure enough, when the loo door finally opens and Tommy appears, it’s like they never came home at all. Stripped down to his undershirt, .22 in one hand and his trench knife in the other, Tommy’s every bit the sergeant major. He stares hard at Arthur, assessing his injuries with the cool indifference of a combat medic, before he lights a cigarette and launches into his report. 

“Linda and the baby are at Polly’s.” He exhales smoke. “Johnny’s on their perimeter. Charlie’s on sentry at the yard. Jeremiah’s on recon at the ring. Detente starts 0600 to bury the dead.” 

Arthur’s thoughts never did come together as fast as Tommy’s, but he figures rather quickly that he’s the dead. As Tommy continues, it becomes clear he’s something else, too. A trojan horse.

“Etch a new bullet, brother,” Tommy says, lighting another fag. “When it’s time, you shoot to kill.”

Arthur sits up slowly then -- a poor attempt to stand at attention -- and rifles through his bedside drawer. Behind Linda’s Bible he unearths a pack of digestives and a bottle of stomach tonic. 

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Chunk of hardtack and a swig of rum stop working for you, soldier?” 

Arthur frowns. “I don’t know, sergeant major. I ain’t the one sicking up on active duty.” 

Tom coughs and drags hard enough on his smoke that his cheeks hollow out. “Something I ate.” 

Except Tommy hasn’t eaten since this mess started. Arthur thought it was because Linda was in charge of meals. Tommy never could break bread with the calvary. But even Tom’s pride wasn’t that great. Not now. Arthur considers Tommy then, unable to ignore how his own stomach flips.

“Since John,” he tries, “everything save for whiskey tastes like the ash from his funeral pyre. Caught sight of myself yesterday and wondered how a general came to be skinny as a private.”

Tommy’s eyes are cold as he takes a biscuit, breaks it in two and offers Arthur half. “War’s not over yet, brother,” he says, swallowing hard. “There’s no time to lose our stomach for revenge.”


End file.
